No Posed, Cheesy Smiles
by Dreamscapes Symphonic
Summary: I just miss him so much. It kind of went away for a while but now -- everytime I hear a noise in there or hear footsteps coming to the door, my heart goes into my throat. I think 'It's him! It's Josh' but it never is."
1. Chapter 1

A/N to anyone who read Another Name In a Textbook: This story, while along the same lines, is not connected to that one. So please don't try to fit them together because that will just cause headaches all around.  
  
Also, to all who are interested, the sequel to My Fellow Americans, which is not titled yet, will be up within the next few weeks. I wrote the outline up and have started the first chapter, but I want to get a few done before I post. Plus, finals week. So Chapter 1 will be up before July.  
  
Spoilers: In The Shadow of Two Gunmen part 1. Obviously diverts from there.  
  
Disclaimer: The West Wing is not mine, nor are any of the characters in this story, with the exception of Carl. And maybe the ambassador to Japan.  
  
CHAPTER 1/6  
  
It was nine thirty on an early autumn Thursday. In the White House it was business as usual. In the Communications bullpen, Sam and Toby were working on a speech for the retirement of the ambassador to Japan. Toby suggested the occasional use of punctuation while Sam typed feverishly. Down the hall, CJ was with her staff, preparing for the day's fight with the press. Sipping her coffee, she was reading over a report that the President would be supporting proposed tax cuts while her assistant Carol talked on about yet another problem with Vice-President Hoynes. All through the West Wing people were typing, chatting, arguing, flirting, threatening, and working. Just a normal day.  
  
Donna sat at her desk typing a report for Leo. For a while it had been strange to have her orders coming directly from him but after nearly a year and a half she'd gotten used to it.  
  
Her eyes strayed to the empty office beside her. All of his things had been cleared out about a week after the shootings. Most of it had gone to his mother, but she'd given Donna a framed photo that was currently collecting dust in her drawer. Now the room was bare except for the desk and chair. She remembered that day she'd sent the chair to her friend to fix. That night they went to Rosslyn. That was the night—  
  
She shook her head. She wouldn't think about it. Not now. Occasionally she still cried at night, but never here. Now she had work to do.  
  
  
  
"Carl, it's nice to see you again."  
  
Carl Rooney shifted in his chair. "You too, Mr. McGarry."  
  
"Do you know why I called you?"  
  
"Something about a position?"  
  
"Yeah. I want you to be White House Deputy Chief of Staff."  
  
Carl's jaw dropped. "Me?"  
  
"You. We've known each other for a while. I think you'd be right for the job."  
  
"But..."  
  
Leo knew what he was thinking. "This is damn near impossible," he said, "Even after so long. But I need a deputy and I think that you're the guy to do it. Do you accept the job?"  
  
Carl thought for a second. "The President wants you too," Leo said, "I told him that you were a vital part of my staff a few years ago."  
  
"I suppose."  
  
"It's a good job. Respectable if you do it right."  
  
"Could I just have a few minutes to think about it?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Deputy Chief of Staff. How badly would the rest of the staff take that? He'd be trying to replace their dead friend. But maybe they would understand. Plus, he could definitely use the job. His mother had cancer and he was paying her medical bills.  
  
"I'll do it." He said.  
  
"Good." Leo said. He shook Carl's hand. "Welcome to the White House. Let's go introduce you to your staff."  
  
  
  
Donna saw Leo come in with another man. He was short and nervous looking, with gray-blonde hair. She stood up and waited for one of them to speak.  
  
"Donna, sit down." Leo said, slightly exasperated. He'd been telling her this for months.  
  
She sat. "This is Donna Moss. She's Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff."  
  
Donna held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"Donna, this is Carl Rooney. I'm hiring him as my deputy."  
  
Donna froze, her hand still in Carl's. Deputy?  
  
TBC......  
  
A/N: Yes, I am aware that Leo probably would've hired a new deputy long before now, but for the sake of the story, let's just say he had his staff doing extra work to make up for Josh not being there. So please don't argue that point in any reviews. 


	2. Chapter 2

Big thanks and cookies to Ktis2fun, Lexi Lyman, and snowbear96 for your reviews.  
  
Disclaimer: again, not mine.  
  
CHAPTER 2/6  
  
"It is with greatest pleasure that I introduce my good friend and fellow—no, that sucks. Introduce my esteemed colleague—no—"  
  
A knock at Toby's door interrupted his muttering. That new guy, the one with Josh's job, was standing there.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
The man stepped inside, either oblivious to, or ignoring, Toby's icy tone. "Hi." He said.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"I'm sorry, I forget your name."  
  
"Toby."  
  
"Of course. Carl."  
  
"Hi."  
  
"So how's it going, Toby?"  
  
"You need something?"  
  
"No, not really."  
  
"Then why are you here?"  
  
"Just looking around."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So..." Carl walked over to the desk. "She's pretty." He said, nodding to one of the pictures. "Your sister?"  
  
"Ex-wife."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Do you want something?"  
  
"I'll just get going."  
  
"Good idea."  
  
Carl didn't move. Toby looked up from his computer. "What?!"  
  
"Oh, nothing. Leaving."  
  
"Then do so."  
  
"Of course. Bye."  
  
Carl hurried out and Toby kicked the door shut. As he passed the next office, Carl looked in the window where Toby's deputy was working. The younger man looked up and their eyes almost met. Then Carl looked away and headed to his office.  
  
  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
Hearing a voice coming from that doorway caused Donna to jump, nearly falling out of her chair. "Sorry." It was Carl.  
  
"That's okay." She said quickly, avoiding his eyes.  
  
"I was wondering if you could get me the Winder file."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
She came into his office a few minutes later and dropped the file on his desk. "Thank you Angela." Carl said.  
  
"Donna."  
  
"Donna. How did I get Angela just then? Sorry about that."  
  
"That's okay."  
  
"There was this girl who worked at my old office who looked a lot like you. Her name is Angela. That must be where I got it. I'm terrible with names."  
  
He smiled, but Donna remained somber-faced. "Donna, you think you could get me some coffee?"  
  
Coffee...she blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears back.  
  
"Yes sir." She said.  
  
"Awesome. Thanks."  
  
She walked out the door and down to the mess as casually as she could. The coffee machine was on the other side of the empty room. When she reached it her knees let out and she collapsed to the floor beside it, clutching the machine and shaking.  
  
It had been so long since anyone had been in there. So long since there had been anyone but Leo.  
  
"Donna?"  
  
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Brushing her hair out of her face, she turned and faced Sam. He knelt down beside her.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"Him." She replied, "Being in there. Hearing someone in there who isn't Josh."  
  
Sam nodded in agreement. "It's been over a year. I should be able to do this."  
  
He wrapped his arms around her. "I just miss him so much." She said, "It kind of went away for a while but now – every time I hear a noise in there or hear footsteps coming to the door my heart goes into my throat. I think, it's him! It's Josh! But it never is."  
  
She burst into tears. Sam blinked hard, trying and failing to keep his own back. He staggered to his feet, pulling Donna up with him. He knew exactly how she felt. It was as if a wound, a bullet wound, had begun healing in his heart, only to be ripped wide open again by this new arrival.  
  
It was Donna who broke away. "Thank you." She said, "I have to go. I have to bring..."  
  
She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and poured a cup of coffee. Grabbing a handful of sugar packets, she hurried up to what she still thought of as Josh's office.  
  
TBC... 


	3. Chapter 3

Again, thanks to everyone for your lovely reviews. You guys are the coolest.  
  
A/N: I will not be elaborating on the situation with Charlie in this story anymore than I do in this chapter. Maybe I'll do an additional fic about him, but since this one is mainly focused around Carl and the rest of the senior staff, there won't be much in this. Chapter 3/6  
  
Carl and CJ were in her office, preparing for Carl's first press conference. They originally weren't going to have him go up, but the press had been clamoring for information about him that CJ hadn't known. So it was either send Carl up to be interrogated, or CJ spend some quality time with him. She chose the former. It wasn't that he was a bad guy. It was just that she couldn't look at him without remembering the last time she'd seen Josh, lying broken and bleeding on the gurney.  
  
She shook her head to get rid of that image. "You don't have to answer any questions you don't want to." She said, watching Gail swim around her bowl, "They may ask you questions about your personal life and you are allowed to answer, but you don't have to. For now they don't need to know whether you're married, gay, whatever. Chances are though that they'll mostly be asking about background and your feelings about taking the job. And if there's anything about the job that you're not sure about, don't try to make up an answer. And never be sarcastic. They take that the wrong way. Like this one time—"  
  
She caught herself as she was about to mention a secret plan to fight inflation. Carl watched her expectantly, but she didn't finish.  
  
"So anyway, it'll be forty minutes or so. Call on whoever you like. I'd suggest the more business magazines. The others will probably be asking more personal questions..."  
  
  
  
That night Carl was pacing the room outside the Oval Office. The President wanted to meet him. He'd been here three days already but the only contact they had had was a thirty-second meeting in Leo's office the first day.  
  
Charlie was reading some book that the President had lent him. He didn't understand any of it and had a sneaking suspicion it was written in Latin. He looked over the top of it at the man pacing by the door and felt the familiar guilt crash into his stomach.  
  
Carl felt the assistant's eyes on him. He could feel the anger in them burning into his flesh like a laser.  
  
Charlie couldn't look at him any longer. This man brought it all back. Not that it had gone very far to begin with, but just looking at him made Charlie want to cry or vomit. Or kill himself. It was his fault.  
  
The door opened and the President escorted Carl inside. He shut the door behind them, then sat down. Carl remained standing.  
  
"Sit down Carl." He said after a moment of awkward silence. "Do you want a drink?"  
  
"No thank you, sir." Carl replied, sitting down opposite the President.  
  
"So how do you like it?" the President asked.  
  
"Like what? The job?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Fine, sir."  
  
"Good. Leo said you'd be good for this job. He needs a deputy. We all knew that he should've hired someone months ago, but...."  
  
He looked beyond Carl and sighed. After a moment he spoke again.  
  
"How are you getting along with the other staffers?"  
  
How was he getting along with them? No one would look him in the eye. "Fine sir." He said, "You've got a good staff out there."  
  
Bartlet raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.  
  
TBC... 


	4. Chapter 4

Still not mine.  
  
s indicate flashbacks.  
  
CHAPTER 4/6  
  
Carl knocked on Toby's doorway. Toby looked up from what he was writing.  
  
"I got that file you asked me about." Carl said, holding up a ratty manila folder.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Carl placed the folder on his desk. "Cartier versus Wyant?" he read from the label, "Wasn't that a couple years ago?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What do you need it for?"  
  
"We need to make a statement about the appeal."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Don't you have work to do?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Go find out."  
  
That was clear enough for Carl. "Good idea." He said. He stepped out, closing the door behind him.  
  
He was passing Sam's office when he heard a thumping noise from inside. Poking his head in the doorway, he saw Sam pounding his head on his desk.  
  
"Umm...."  
  
Sam stopped. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Working on the most tedious assignment of my life." Sam replied, his head still down on the desk.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"The Association for the Protection of Historic New England has invited the President to share his views on conserving history with them. I've been researching them for four hours now."  
  
"Don't you have staffers to do that?"  
  
"It was originally Toby's job."  
  
"Ah."  
  
Lunging at the opportunity for a break, Sam said, "You need anything?"  
  
He seemed friendly enough so Carl asked, "Is Toby always this cold?"  
  
"Yes and no." Sam said. He sat up and stretched. "He's always been grumpy but it got worse after..."  
  
He didn't finish but Carl knew. "I understand."  
  
"Yeah. Hey, you can sit down if you want."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Yeah, so it got worse for a little while then, but only for a while. Then, no offense, but it got worse for him when you showed up. But you've got to understand, he was the one who was holding him."  
  
Carl didn't get what he was saying for a moment. Then his eyes widened.  
  
"I should go." He said.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"I'm sorry about it. I really am."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Thank you for talking to me. I know I'm kind of butting in."  
  
"No, Leo needed someone."  
  
Carl stood up and headed for the door. He got there, stopped, and turned around.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"How close were you to him?"  
  
Sam looked him in the eye, the first eye contact any of the senior staffers had made with him. "He was my best friend."  
  
XxXxXx  
  
Toby reached for his pen and his elbow hit the folder Carl had brought. It fell to the floor, papers spilling everywhere. Swearing, Toby started to gather up the mess. He picked up one sheet with a Post-It attached. It was a regular Post-It, bright yellow with "Friday 2 pm. Meet w/ Cartier and Leo." scratched on it. In Josh's handwriting.  
  
"Josh?"  
  
There he was, sitting against the wall. Toby could see the top of his head over it and his legs splayed out in front of him.  
  
Toby climbed the steps, relief flooding his body. Then he was the blood, barely held back by hands clutching the gaping wound. He saw the dark eyes glazed with pain and shock.  
  
His throat was too dry to yell. "I-I-need help!" he finally got out, "Somebody get a doctor over here!"  
  
Josh started to fall. Toby caught him, cradling his head in his hand. "Help!"  
  
No one was coming. They were all too busy making sure the President got out of there and that no one important had been hurt. No one noticed the man dying in his arms.  
  
Blood dripped out the side of his mouth. He slowly turned his eyes toward Toby's and for one brutal moment their eyes locked. Toby could see the agony in them. Then they went blank, all the awareness flooding out onto the pavement with the blood that soaked the sidewalk, himself, and Toby.  
  
"Josh." Toby said, lightly shaking him. "Josh, come on."  
  
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Joke's over. Get up. You need to get back to work. Donna needs you to."  
  
Come on dammit! You're not leaving us like this!"  
  
"Josh, wake up." Pleading now. "Come back!"  
  
They were trying to take him now. "No! He's not dead! He's okay! Look at him!"  
  
One of the paramedics took him by the shoulders as the others wheeled away the gurney they'd laid Josh on. "He's not dead." Toby said, trying to regain his calm demeanor. "He's not."  
  
"I'm sorry sir." the paramedic said, "There's nothing we can do for him."   
  
Friday 2 pm. Meet w/ Cartier and Leo. The words were now smudged with his tears. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Yeah, sorry this has taken so long. Procrastination issues. I'll try to get the last chapter up within the next week, and then start posting the still untitled My Fellow Americans sequel. I also have a one-shot written that I may have as part of an experiment. Pointless A/N here. Sorry. On to the story!  
  
CHAPTER 5/6  
  
Carl sat in the mess, absently stirring his soup. It had been about three hours since his talk with Sam.  
  
He couldn't imagine being in Toby's position. His friend had died in his arms while he was helpless to do anything to help. No wonder he couldn't stand Carl. Carl wouldn't have been able to stand Carl either.  
  
"Hey Carl."  
  
Leo sat down across the table from him. "Hi."  
  
"How you doing, kid?"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Sam told me you talked."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You understand?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"Don't worry. They'll come around. Toby, CJ, just give them time."  
  
"It's just..."  
  
"Just what?"  
  
"Nothing." Carl said quickly.  
  
"No, tell me."  
  
"Well, it's like they think I'm trying to replace Josh. And not just in a work sense. I mean like they think I'm trying to be him."  
  
"They might." Leo said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Do you want me to talk to them?"  
  
"No. Please don't."  
  
"Okay. But just keep in mind that he was their friend. He died and it ripped them up for a while. They're still healing. This is tough on everyone, you included. Just give them time."  
  
  
  
"'And lastly, thank you for inviting me to come and speak with you today.'" Sam read. "Great, I've got an end. Now I just need a beginning and a middle."  
  
He took out the pile of research and began typing. Within ten minutes he was in full speechwriting mode, tuning out any and all distractions. It was still tedious work, but less difficult. He didn't look up thirty minutes later when there was a knock at the door.  
  
"Hey Donna." He said, still typing, "Josh need me?"  
  
It took a full five seconds for him to realize what he'd said. He jerked his head up at Donna, whose face was pale. "Oh man, I'm sorry." Sam said, "I—"  
  
"It's okay."  
  
"No. I-I don't – I can't..."  
  
"No, really, it's okay." She came in and put a piece of paper on his desk. "Carl sent this. He found some stuff on that group for you."  
  
"Wow." Sam scanned the sheet. "Tell him thanks for me."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She started to walk out. "I really am sorry." Sam said.  
  
"I've been doing the same thing for two weeks." Donna said, turning and smiling sadly at him.  
  
"Good night."  
  
"Night."  
  
She left. Sam turned back to his computer but his concentration had been shattered.  
  
"Sam!"  
  
Sam pulled himself up off the ground. CJ was still down but an agent was pulling her to her feet. She'd be okay.  
  
"You okay?" Leo asked, brushing some dirt off of Sam's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah. Where's everyone else?"  
  
"The President's being brought to the White House. Zoey and Charlie are too. CJ's over there, and I haven't seen Josh or Toby."  
  
It seemed to Sam that he heard a faint voice calling for help, but in the chaos he couldn't be sure.  
  
"I'll go find them." He said.  
  
He had seen Toby briefly a few minutes earlier, walking toward the stairs. He headed in that direction.  
  
"Hey Toby, you here?"  
  
"There was a crowd at the top of the steps. Paramedics mostly, though some people were snapping pictures. Horrible possibilities flashed through Sam's mind as he ran up. His foot caught the top stair and he tripped, falling into one of the photographers and knocking her down.  
  
He got to his feet and shoved through to the center. Toby was fighting loudly with a paramedic. Sam saw blood on his shirt and for a second thought that he was the one who'd been hurt. But then he heard what Toby was yelling and he turned, with growing dread, toward the stretcher that was about to be wheeled over to the ambulance. His best friend lay there, blood soaking his shirt, his jacket discarded on the ground beside him. His sightless eyes stared up at Sam and Sam fell to his knees.   
  
Sam blinked and looked around. He was on his office floor, his head buried in his arms. Tears soaked the carpet. No one else was around. He sat up, wiped his eyes, and shut off his computer. It was time to go home. 


	6. Chapter 6

Alright, this is it. Thank you so much for all your wonderful feedback. I love you all (well, except Lexi, but that's beside the point ( ). I'll be back soon with a couple more West Wing fics I have written and some Harry Potter. Again, thanks so much. You all rock!  
  
CHAPTER 6/6  
  
It was his birthday. Donna couldn't remember how old he would be; only that it was too young. She was sitting at her desk thinking, but pretending to work, when Sam came in. He looked at her and nodded. She smiled slightly, tears filling her eyes for the umpteenth time in days. He sat down on her desk and took her hand. His eyes were bright with tears.  
  
A moment later CJ came in. "I was looking at my calendar and—"  
  
The other two nodded. "Are you okay?" she asked.  
  
Again they nodded, not sure if they could speak. CJ moved a little like she was going to leave, but kind of lingered in the doorway.  
  
Toby came in. "Sam? Did you finish that thing?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then why...oh."  
  
He too went to leave, but stopped. He paced a small circle over and over for several minutes. CJ leaned against the doorway. Nobody spoke. They were all caught up in memories, some painful, many sweet.  
  
Leo walked by Donna's desk on his way to Carl's office. He passed the group, stopped, then backtracked through the doorway.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked.  
  
They just looked at him with somber eyes. Leo realized what this was probably about. "It's today, isn't it?"  
  
Toby nodded. "Alright. But remember that you have to do your work today. The country won't be turned to chaos for Josh's birthday. Though that would be fitting..."  
  
He knocked on the office door, then walked in. Toby stopped pacing. "He's right." He said, "Sam, we have to go finish."  
  
"Yeah." Sam stood up and reluctantly followed Toby away.  
  
"I have a briefing in ten minutes." CJ said, "Are you alright, Donna?"  
  
"No, but I'll be okay soon."  
  
"Want to get lunch together later?"  
  
"Yeah. I'd like that."  
  
"Great. Meet me in the mess at noon."  
  
"Okay."  
  
CJ left. Donna waited until she turned the corner before collapsing into silent tears.  
  
  
  
"I'll go tell Donna to set up a meeting with him." Carl told Leo. "Hang on."  
  
He stepped outside and closed the door. "Donna, could you call Bill Fryer's office and- Donna?"  
  
Donna lifted her head from her desk. Her eyes were red and mascara lines ran down her cheeks. She wiped her eyes quickly on the back of her hand. "Yes?" she said, "And what?"  
  
"Donna, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Seriously."  
  
"Today's his birthday."  
  
"Whose?"  
  
"Josh."  
  
"Oh."  
  
She was trying not to cry again but Carl could see she was failing. He walked over to her desk and stood there uncomfortably, wondering what he should do. He didn't have very much experience in matters like this.  
  
She lost it. It was slightly mortifying to be acting like this in front of this man but she couldn't help it, no matter how much she screamed at herself inside.  
  
Carl awkwardly patted the sobbing woman's shoulder. He tried to think of something to say. She'd obviously loved Lyman very much.  
  
"You know, I met him once." Carl said after a minute.  
  
"You did?" Her head was bowed.  
  
"Yeah. I staffed for Leo before the election, and then worked on the campaign for a few months. Leo went down to get this guy he knew and when he came back he wouldn't shut up about this 'great political mind' and on and on and on. I knew the guy would be nothing. Murphy's law. But then he came up and I spent one meeting with him. It was incredible, Donna. He knew what he believed in and fought for it the entire time, even though everyone else in the room disagreed with him."  
  
Donna sniffled and gave him a watery smile. "Yeah, that sounds like him."  
  
"Then on his way out of there after the meeting he tripped on his shoelace and fell down a flight of stairs."  
  
"That's definitely him."  
  
She wiped her eyes again. "We've been awful, haven't we?"  
  
"No, no, you haven't."  
  
"We have. I'm sorry."  
  
"Okay, maybe a little bit. But I get it. It's okay."  
  
The following silence wasn't quite so awkward. He smiled at her and she returned it, looking directly into his eyes.  
  
The door creaked open behind them and Leo came out. "Carl, are you ready to go?"  
  
"Yes sir." Carl said, "Donna, you'll call Fryer's office and schedule a meeting?"  
  
"Yes." She said.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
He and Leo walked away. Donna watched them leave, and then reached for the phone. Then she stopped and opened the top drawer of her desk. Searching through the papers and junk, she finally pulled out a wooden picture frame. She set it up on her desk and looked at the picture inside. Josh smiled out at her, his arm slung carelessly over her own shoulder. Both of them had been laughing about something when this picture was taken. There were no posed, cheesy smiles.  
  
It wasn't quite so painful now, looking at that picture. He was never coming back. She knew this. But she could still feel him there with her, his arm wrapped around her shoulder.  
  
Carl isn't a bad guy, she decided. He's not Josh but he's not evil either. He'd just better not expect any more coffee.  
  
THE END  
  
So how'd you like it? My next story is taking a quick break from writing angst and trying humor. Sam thinks Toby's an alien. What's going to happen? A one-shot thing that I just had to write. And then I'll finally start posting the sequel. Damn, I gotta think of a name for that. 


End file.
